


Watching Your Six

by bracus09



Series: ABC SEAL Team Whump [7]
Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gunshot Wounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28642413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bracus09/pseuds/bracus09
Summary: When you least expect it, you always need to watch your Six.
Series: ABC SEAL Team Whump [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611082
Comments: 26
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for waiting!
> 
> Here is the letter G. By the tags, you should be able to guess what is going to happen.
> 
> Also, I'm hard at work on stories for SEAL Team Week... more like SEAL Team Month with the length of my stories. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Bravo team surrounded a table in the briefing room. They got a call of troops in contact and one was separated from the rest of his unit. They were getting ready to head out. The soldier still had his radio, so he could relay information on his location, but was injured and wasn’t mobile. There were still hostiles out in the area, so he was laying low and hoping for a rescue. They hashed out the final plan, grabbed their gear and headed for the bus to take them to the helos.

***

They were quiet on the helicopter ride out to the site. The plan was to get dropped off a few mikes out, hike over a ridge to where the injured soldier was holed up in an area that he could defend. Trent made sure that his medical kit was fully stocked before he got on the helo.

As they approached the infil location, Jason came over the radio. “We’ve got Master Sergeant Hill, who barricaded himself inside a cave. Conflicting reports on whether the hostiles are in the area, and no ISR. We can’t take any chances.”

“Last report from Hill, he took a round to the shoulder,” Trent stressed, annoyed that he had an injured soldier to find and treat.

“Copy that,” Sonny said, adjusting his gun where he was sitting. “Why do they always end up lost in the mountains?”

This caused the guys to smirk in Sonny’s direction.

“Coming up on infil,” Jason said, “Heads on a swivel.”

The helicopter came in for the landing, and gently set down on its landing gear. Bravo filed out, with Brock being last with Cerb. The helo took off again and Bravo was left with a hill or so to climb. “HAVOC, passing Nova.”

“Copy, Bravo 1.” Blackburn responded over their earpieces.

Clay took point, followed by Jason, Sonny, Ray, Trent and Brock bringing up the rear. They kept a steady pace, picking their path up the side of the hill. As they reached the top of the hill, now came the difficult part… finding the right cave that Hill had hidden himself in.

“This is like finding a needle in a haystack,” Sonny complained looking down the hillside.

“HAVOC, has Hill made any further contact?” Jason asked, looking for anything that might resemble a cave. Unfortunately, with the direction they had to fly in, they couldn’t come up on the hill to see any caves. They had to go down the hill and look for caves as they go.

“Bravo 1, we have not had any further contact with the Master Sergeant.” Davis replied.

“You need to find him and get out of there fast. We do have reports of hostiles in the area. Speed is of the essence right now.” Blackburn further commented.

“Lima Charlie.” Jason said, turning to the guys and starting down the hill… searching any nook and cranny that could lead them to the Master Sergeant.

All the guys were on alert, guns raised, looking for either a hostile to pop up or for them to stumble upon Master Sergeant Hill. About two-thirds way down the hill, Clay saw what looked like an old wooden fence or maybe even a section of wood wall from a shack, leaning haphazardly against the side of the hill.

Thinking to himself that if he was stranded by himself, he would try to find something to cover your hiding spot. He slowly approached the wooden junk and called out “Master Sergeant Hill!”

He waited for a response, and received a muffled reply. Clay spoke into his mic. “Bravo 1, I think I found Hill’s hidey-hole. Two-thirds down on the left. You should see the blown-up wood section. I’m going to see if I can provide assistance while everyone gets here.”

“Good copy Bravo 6.” Jason replied.

As Clay approached, Hill was leaning against the cave wall, tucked behind the wooden section as a barrier. He was tightly clutching his left shoulder area with his right hand, and holding up his weapon with what little grip he had in his left.

“Master Sergeant Hill, I’m Clay Spenser of the US Navy. I’m here to bring you home.” Clay said clearly and showed no aggression. The Master Sergeant had been alone, injured, and in a hostile environment. Any sudden move to even a trained soldier could cause him to pull a trigger accidently.

“Oh, thank God,” Was the response and Hill dropped his weapon down.

“How’re ya feeling?” Clay asked as he entered the cave area and pulled his mini-medical kit to the front to find some gauze. Hill’s shoulder wound was still bleeding sluggishly.

“Not so hot,” Hill replied with a small chuckle.

“Are you having any trouble breathing?” Clay asked, because if Hill was, they needed Trent down here ASAP.

“No, no, not really.” Hill replied. The relief of being found by American soldiers and pain was from his injury was starting to hit him hard. “Feelin’ kinda dizzy. Lightheaded-like.”

Clay had been running with Trent enough to know what questions to ask, “Are you cold?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hill said, and as if his body just realized he was, shivered. “Real cold,”

“Are you hurt anywhere besides the shoulder?” Clay asked, knowing if Hill could walk, they could get to exfil faster… but if he was already slipping into shock, they may have to carry him out.

“I’m good except the shoulder.” Hill replied.

Clay grabbed some more gauze and pressed it against the shoulder. He also keyed his mic, “Bravo 4, you need to get over here. Pretty sure he is going into shock.”

“On my way Bravo 6.” Came the breathy reply as Trent was coming down the hill to their location.

Clay could also hear Jason updating HAVOC, saying there were passing Impala.

Suddenly, a gunshot pinged off of the cave wall next to Clay’s head. He hurriedly ducked behind the flimsy wood section and covered Hill’s body with his own. As soon as he made sure Hill wasn’t hit, he turned and brought up his weapon to see where the shooting was coming from.

Elsewhere on the hill, Bravo was returning fire on the hostiles that had decided to come out of their own hidey-holes in the valley. Clay started to take aim and hit a hostile between the eyes, but unfortunately, with the size of the cave, Clay was having to shoot hunched over. He could hardly kneel down, and he definitely couldn’t get on his stomach to shoot.

While lining up his next target, he heard a groan behind him. Turning and looking back, he noticed Hill was starting to lean to one side. He returned to Hill’s side. “Hey man, how ya doing?” He reached for the last of the gauze that he had as the gauze he had previously added was already saturated in blood.

“Hurts like hell,” Hill slurred.

Clay grinned sympathetically. “Yeah, gunshot wounds tend to do that,” he agreed. “We’ll get you out of here as fast as we can. Just need to get rid of some pests first.”

“Bravo 4, he’s still losing blood.” Clay said, while holding pressure.

“Hang tight 6, we need to clean up the trash first.” Sonny replied.

Just then, all hell broke loose and the cave and “wood door” started to get peppered with gunfire. Clay could hear a man scream, but what he was saying was unintelligible. Clay instinctively arched his body over the top half of Hill’s body. He cringed when a shot ricocheted in the Cave. The noise and shots got closer, as if the hostile was approaching them, but then just as suddenly the man’s cries were drowned out by multiple gunshots and then silence.

“You good Bravo 6?” Jason asked as he peered into the cave.

“All good. Just got a little too close for comfort.” Clay said as he sat up and looked down at Hill. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Hill responded.

Sonny pulled away their wooden refuge, and this allowed enough space for Trent to get in and assess Master Sergeant Hill. Trent quickly established a FAST1 on Hill’s sternum so he could hook up a bag of Ringers and start replacing some of the fluids that he had lost.

Brock and Ray were quickly pulling out a tactical stretcher from Brock’s bag to lay on the ground and get Hill into so they could get to exfil without any further issues.

As Trent and Sonny were working on getting Hill loaded, Jason looked over at Clay. “You good to go Bravo 6?”

Clay finally stood to his full height now that he was out of the cave, shook the kinks out of his legs, and smirked in Bravo 1’s direction. “Let’s get off this damn hill.”

***

Since Bravo had Master Sergeant Hill with them, they returned to base on two helos. Jason, Ray and Trent were in helo 1 with Hill. Sonny, Brock, and Clay were in the second helo.

It was Brock that first noticed something when Clay leaned over to adjust his bag that had slid across the floor when the helo tipped to change direction.

“Hey Clay,” Brock said, Cerb between his legs. “Looks like your back’s bleeding.”

“What?” Clay sat up and felt behind him. At first, he didn’t feel anything, but slipping a hand under his tac vest, he quickly found the small spot of wetness just above his belt. He pulled his hand back and sure enough, it was blood. He twisted his body trying to see if he could get a better look, but it was impossible.

“Bam Bam, what did you do now?” Sonny asked, but concern was lingering in his eyes.

“I must have gotten a few cuts by some of the rock chips that the ricochet chipped off the cave.” He loosened the Velcro on that side and untucked his camo long-sleeve from his pants, and he immediately felt that his undershirt was much wetter than the outer shirt had been. But he couldn’t tell if it was blood or just sweat. “Can you see anything, Brock?” He turned his back so Brock could take a look.

Brock reached over and lifted the shirt up. “Shit, Clay, your back is covered in blood.” He lifted the undershirt as well and let out a slight gasp.

“Clay,” he said cautiously. “Don’t move. It looks like a bullet hole.”

“WHAT?” Sonny exclaimed and moved over so he could take a look too.

“You’re shitting me!” Clay exclaimed and he started to twist around again, but Sonny quickly grabbed Clay by his vest, under his armpits and stopped him.

“Brock isn’t kidding Tinkerbell. Right in the middle of the lower part of your back. It’s not a cut. It’s a hole and it’s bleeding.” Sonny explained.

Clay could feel the fear rising in his chest. This couldn’t be happening. He felt absolutely fine. It didn’t even hurt.

“Okay, this is what we are going to do,” Sonny started, bring Clay back to attention. “What is our ETA?” Sonny asked in Brock’s direction.

“We are coming in on the landing pad just now.” Brock replied, looking out the open helo door.

“Okay, good,” Sonny said. “We are just going to slide you all the way back against the seat and you will sit there and I will hold you here until Brock can get Trent in here.”

Sonny helped Clay move all the way back so that he was sitting perfectly straight and using the wall to keep himself so.

With Sonny’s help, Clay was able to brace himself for when the helo maneuvered for the landing and felt the gentle thump of the helo landing. Sonny had to keep his grip on Clay to keep him from moving too much with all the jostling.

When the helo was on the ground, Brock jumped out with Cerb and immediately jogged over to the other helo where Jason and Ray were standing and waiting, while Trent was unloading Hill and updating the medical staff on his condition.

When just Brock and Cerb came over, alarm bells started to go off in Jason and Ray’s minds. Jason looked at Brock and back towards the helo, “Are the Terrible Twins coming?”

“Uhh, not sure that is a good idea right now,” Brock kept his voice calm. “Sonny is keeping Clay’s spine straight. It seems he was shot. In the back.”

“WHAT?” Trent stared at his friend incredulously and then the whole group started towards the second helo.

“You heard me. In the back.” Brock repeated.

As Trent reached the helo, with Sonny still holding Clay in position, he turned to Clay and said, “Don’t _move_ Clay!” He then turned towards a support personnel, yelling to be heard over the residual helo noise. “I NEED A GURNEY OUT HERE AND MORE HANDS!”

Trent scooted next to Sonny, while the rest of Bravo stayed out of the helo so Trent had room to work. “Don’t move, Clay. Let us get you.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” Clay explained, looking back and forth from Trent to Sonny.

Trent pulled a cervical collar out of his pack and fitted it around Clay’s neck.

“It’s down pretty low, I don’t think I need this.” Clay complained.

“Just leave it alone, Peter Pan,” Sonny said, still holding Clay in place.

Trent felt around Clay’s back and up his shirt. He couldn’t look because Clay was sitting too close to the back of the seat. He let his hand follow the trail of blood until he reached the small hole. He touched it, and Clay didn’t even flinch.

“I didn’t feel anything. I still don’t. Why can’t I feel it, Trent?” Clay whispered.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” Trent leaned over and grabbed some gauze out of his bag and carefully placed it over the wound, applying light pressure.

Everyone could hear the medical personnel starting to swarm around the helo. Blackburn was waiting for Bravo at the edge of the tarmac, but seeing the commotion, he walked over. “Anything the matter, gentlemen?” He started, then he saw Clay with a cervical collar around his neck. “Spenser?! What happened?”

Clay tried to downplay the gravity of the situation. “Remember when I said those shots were a little too close for comfort? Guess they were closer than we thought. I got hit.”

Before Blackburn could react, the medical personnel arrived with equipment and Trent started to fill in the physician that was outside the helo. “He’s got a bullet wound in the back. We’re going to need a half board to stabilize his spine before we move him.”

“You have full mobility, Clay?” Trent asked. Clay nodded slightly in the collar. “No weakness or tingling or loss of sensation?” Trent continued.

“Well, no nothing,” Clay started. “I spent time on my knees while in the cave and when I stood up they felt like they were asleep, but it went away.” He let out a breath before adding, “I’m telling you, I don’t feel it. _At all_.”

“That’s alright, Clay. It’s alright.” Sonny responded, seeing the fear in Clay’s eyes.

A medic returned with the half spine board and hopped into the helo so that they could start preparing Clay to get him out of there.

“Why didn’t you say something, Clay?” Jason asked as he watched the scene unfold, running his hand through his hair.

“I didn’t even know, Jace,” Clay answered. “Brock noticed blood on my back as we were getting ready to land.”

Trent clearly wanted to get on with things. “Okay, Clay, we’re gonna slip the board behind you and secure you to it. Then,” he looked out the door and saw another medic standing there with a collapsible gurney. “Then we will slide you onto the gurney, okay? You don’t need to do anything, understand?”

Clay let out a nervous laugh. “I know, seen you do these enough times,” he reminded him.

Trent just nodded. Jason reached in and finished undoing his tac vest Velcro straps. Trent had Sonny move Clay just enough off the back of the helo seat so he and the other medic could slip the half board behind him and then secured him to the board. They lifted his legs so that they were keeping Clay’s spine straight and then lowered him onto the gurney. When he was secure on the gurney, and they were strapping him down further, Clay saw Davis come into his line of sight with a comforting smile on her face.

“Bravo 6, what are we going to do with you?” she gently chided.

“I dunno, Davis,” he admitted, and he couldn’t help feeling grateful when she stepped forward from the head of the gurney and grasped his hand in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh where, oh where is the bullet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't you glad that I needed some stress relief?
> 
> Enjoy!

“Can I have someone come in here,” Dr. Patterson stated, looking at the assemble Bravo team. He had stepped away from the exam room for a moment. “I need to see if one of you can get him to calm down.”

Everyone looked at each other before Jason nodded and followed Dr. Patterson back to the exam room. When they entered the room, Dr. Patterson nodded towards the table. Jason approached the exam bed that Clay had been transferred to.

“Clay, come on now,” Jason said. “You have to calm down.”

“Easy for you to say,” came the reply from the bed. “You’re not lying here with a bullet in your back.”

Jason dared to rest his hand on Clay’s chest. “I know, but your heart rate and BP are through the roof. Just take some deep breaths and settle down, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Clay said, but he didn’t do it.

Jason put the slightest bit of pressure on Clay’s chest to prompt him into action. “Come one, Clay.”

Clay closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He filled his lungs through his nose and slowly blew the breath out through his mouth, and then repeated the process several times. He felt the hand leave his chest, and realized that he did, in fact, feel a little calmer, but it was only temporary.

“Alright, that’s more like it. We can give you something for pain if you’d like.” The voice was Dr. Patterson’s.

“No, doc, I’m not _in_ any pain.” Clay denied.

“Are you sure Petty Officer?” Dr. Patterson wanted confirmation.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t want anything.” He didn’t want anything that would dull his senses. He needed to know everything that was going on. He needed to feel everything he could.

There was a knock on the door, and Trent poked his head in. “Need an extra set of hands?”

“Will never say no to trained hands.” Dr. Patterson said, motioning for Trent to come in. “Okay, we’re going to roll you over onto your side so we can get a quick look at the wound, okay Petty Officer? Let us do all the work.”

“You can call me Clay.” Clay told Dr. Patterson. When they moved toward the exam bed, Clay could instantly feel his heart rate quicken again. ‘Breathe,’ he reminded himself. ‘Breathe.’ He heard Dr. Patterson say, “on three,” and before he knew it – certainly before “three” – he felt his body tilt onto his right side. It should hurt. He knew it should hurt. But it didn’t, and that scared him most of all.

Breathe.

Clay was aware that Dr. Patterson was talking while he was on his side, but he was unable to discern the words. All he heard was the loud rushing noise, like waves crashing to shore during a storm, in his ears. ‘Calm down,’ he commanded himself. ‘So glad that I don’t remember Manila.’ He felt his body roll back to flat.

“So?” he asked somewhat breathlessly as someone prepared to draw blood from one of his arms, and someone else started an IV in the other. That must have been what the doctor was saying. “How’s it look?”

“Not too bad,” Trent said noncommittally.

“Trent,” Clay warned. “Tell me.”

If he tried really hard and looked down the length of his body, Clay could see Dr. Patterson come into view at the foot of his bed.

“Looks like its around T12 or L1, Clay. Just left of center.” Trent stated. “Right below the end of your ribcage.”

“Okay,” Clay said. He thought knowing the specifics would ease his mind. He was wrong. Instead, his mind raced to remember what he had learned in their mandatory first aid classes about spinal cord injuries. He knew that an injury at that area would not affect his breathing, which was good, but he also knew it could leave him paralyzed from the waist down.

His pants had long-ago been cut away, and he felt the sheet get lifted away from his lower extremities. He knew they were going to check his reflexes, and he was afraid of what the doctor might find out. Breathe, he kept reminding himself like a mantra. Deep breaths.

“Okay, Clay, just hang tight. The doc is going to check your reflexes and do a quick neuro check, okay?” Trent said, getting into Clay’s line of sight.

“Yeah.” Clay said, catching Trent’s gaze. Clay felt a hand, assumed it was Jason’s, gently grasping his shoulder.

It was a great relief to Clay that he felt the reflex hammer on his knees, and felt it when Dr. Patterson ran a pen along the soles of his feet. He didn’t know if his responses were normal, but he felt it, and that’s all he cared about.

“Okay, good,” the doctor said. “Now, I’m going to touch your legs with a pin. I want you to tell me if it’s the sharp or dull end.”

Dr. Patterson did both legs, and the fact that Clay could tell each and every time was a relief to him as well.

“But I still don’t feel the wound, the injury,” Clay insisted, his concern evident in his voice.

“I wouldn’t worry about that Clay. You were in the middle of a shootout when it happened, and now this. Both very stressful incidents. I would imagine there’s a great deal of adrenaline coursing through your body at this moment.”

Clay nodded as much as the collar around his neck would allow. He hadn’t thought of that.

“So far, your neurological responses are normal.” The doctor rested his hands against his patient’s feet. “I want you to press down against my hands. Hard as you can.” Clay did. “That’s good,” the doctor offered. “Now move your legs for me. One at a time, and slowly.”

Clay bent his right knee, lifting it up and until his foot was flat on the bed. He lowered it down and repeated the motion with the left. It was no sweat, and he heaved a huge sigh of relief. He could still move.

“Great,” Dr. Patterson allowed. “Now pick up your leg and hold it aloft for a moment, then the other.” Clay was able to do that with no problems too. “Okay, we’re done,” the doctor said finally. “Let’s get some x-rays and find out exactly where this bullet is.”

***

Clay just lay there, staring at the ceiling. It was the only thing he could do, once again strapped to the backboard and wearing the collar like he was. All he could do was wait and think. Sure, the knowledge that he still had sensation and mobility in his legs was comforting, but he’d seen too many weird things in his years in the teams. He knew that the bullet could be lodged in such a place that if it moved even a fraction of an inch, it would be all over.

And though he did feel like he was standing on a land mine, unable to move an inch for fear it would go off, at the same time he needed to know, needed to reassure himself that his legs still worked. So, he was flexing his ankles and wiggling his toes almost constantly.

Trent kept cautioning him to stop it, but he just couldn’t. He had to reassure himself that they still worked.

He heard the door open, and silently prayed it was the doctor coming in to explain his x-rays. But he couldn’t turn his head because he still had the damn unnecessary collar on.

“How’re you doing, Bam Bam?” It was Sonny, and he tentatively stepped into his field of view.

“I’m okay,” he told his brother.

“In a lot of pain?” Sonny asked.

Clay snorted with laughter. “Would you believe no, Sonny? Can’t feel it at all. Still. It’s the damndest thing.”

“Well,” Sonny said tentatively, “That’s probably a good thing, don’tcha think?”

Clay didn’t think so, he didn’t think so at all, but he didn’t know how to explain that the pain would be welcome, would tell him his back was still in one piece, and was screaming in protest over what had happened to it. So, instead, he just said, “Yeah, probably.”

An awkward silence fell between all the men.

Clay heard some rustling before hearing Jason speak. “We’re going to go out and update the team. Sonny? Do you want to keep Clay company?”

Sonny must have nodded, because Clay didn’t hear an answer. Another awkward silence fell between them for a moment, until they both started to speak at once, and chuckled. “You first,” Clay allowed.

“I was just gonna say that before I came in Ray, Brock, Blackburn and Davis said to hang in there.” Sonny said.

“Don’t think I have ever seen Blackburn that surprised before.” Clay stated, remembering the look of disbelief on his commander’s face.

“Yeah? He was pretty surprised when he poked his head into the helo.” Sonny stated.

“No more surprised than me,” Clay challenged. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said dispiritedly. “Again."

Sonny could see his best friend’s darkening mood. “Ken Doll, don’t go getting all worked up again. You know as well as I do that everything the doctor has been telling us is that it is looking really good right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” Clay agreed. “But you know as well as I do that they could go sour in a second, too. If that bullet in my back moves just a little, and I could be discharged right out of the Navy and be looking at a life from a wheelchair.”

Clay felt Sonny’s hand on his shoulder and it gave his shoulder a squeeze, but Sonny said nothing. Sonny couldn’t picture Clay in a wheelchair.

"Where the hell is the doc with those x-rays?” Clay said impatiently.

“He’ll be back the second he has them,” Sonny tried to reassure Clay, but he too was impatient for the doc to return.

“I know. Can’t stand the waiting, though. Guess it’s a good thing they aren’t shipping me immediately out to Germany.” Clay stated.

Sonny smiled widely at that. “I know.” He looked at Clay’s feet and saw their almost constant motion. “Nervous energy, Energizer Bunny?” he asked.

“Just making sure, Sonny, just making sure they’re still working.” Clay stated with a smirk.

***

“Clay Spenser, you are one lucky man!” Trent stated loudly as he stepped into the exam room, Dr. Patterson following behind.

“How do you figure that, Trent?” But it was the best kind of greeting Clay could have hoped for.

“We figure the bullet must have ricocheted, or gone through something first, slowing it down. It’s lodged in the muscle running along your spine, just left of the transverse process of the L1 vertebra.” Trent replied.

Clay heaved a sigh of relief. “That means it’s not in my spine?”

“No, Clay, it isn’t. It’s right next to it, but your spine is uninjured.” Trent reassured him.

Clay picked up a hand and ran it through his hair. “Fuck man,” he admitted, “I was worried.”

“We know you were,” the doctor said kindly as he finally removed the cervical collar. “But we still have to get it out, you know.”

Clay flexed his neck gratefully. “How’re you gonna do that?”

“Well, I want to roll you on your side again and see if I can actually feel it. If I can, we’ll try to pull it out right here. Give you a muscle relaxant, a local, see if we can’t get it. If I can’t, I think it would probably be best to run you to the OR to have it removed.” Dr. Patterson explained.

Clay didn’t much care. Now that he knew he wasn’t going to be crippled, he just wanted it out and for this whole thing to be over with. “Get to it,” he ordered the doctor.

Dr. Patterson let out a laugh. “Okay, Clay. The news may be good, but until that bullet is out, I still want you keeping your spine perfectly straight, understand? Let us roll you, let us do all the work, okay?”

“Okay, doc,” Clay promised.

The pain arrived while he was being rolled onto his side. A sharp pain raced up his back, causing Clay to gasp.

“It hurt?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah. Finally.” Clay gritted out.

“Guess that adrenaline’s worn off. It’ll only take a minute.” Dr. Patterson reassured.

Each time the doctor pressed on his back around where he knew the wound was, Clay had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out. But Dr. Patterson could tell what was going on, and made quick work of it, and Clay was soon lying flat on his back again.

“Okay, Clay, I think I could feel it. I think we’ll give it a try down here and see if we can’t spare you a trip to the OR.” Dr. Patterson explained.

“Okay, doc,” Clay panted. The pain in his back, nonexistent a few minutes ago, was suddenly constant and excruciating.

“But first we’ll give you some Valium to relax your muscles, so there will be as little resistance as possible.” The doctor paused and looked at his patient for a moment. “And would you like something for the pain now?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Clay responded.

Dr. Patterson smiled. “I thought so.”

***

Blackburn opened the exam room and saw Clay was lying with his eyes closed. “Clay?” he asked tentatively, afraid he’d be waking him.

Clay did start a little at the sound, and when he opened his eyes they were a bit slow to focus. He turned toward the voice and saw his Commander. “Hey, Black-urn,” he said, slurring slightly.

“How you doin’?” Blackburn smirked.

Clay smiled drunkenly, “Feeling no pain.”

Blackburn returned the smile. “I bet. The joy juice must be working well, then.”

“Ohhhhh yeah.” Clay smiled back.

“That’s good. Look, none of us can be in here for the procedure. We will be in the waiting room, and we will be there until you are freed from here.” Blackburn explained.

“S’okay, sirrr. I figured.”

Blackburn reached out and rested his hand on Clay’s left shoulder. “You take care now, okay? No giving the doctors grief.” And he gave the shoulder a squeeze.

Clay bent his left arm up so he could grasp his commander’s arm. “I will. And thanks, sirrr.”

“For what?” Blackburn asked, curious.

Clay just grinned stupidly. “Dunno. For everything. For bein’ you.”

Blackburn couldn’t help but chuckle, fully aware of how lucky Clay was that he was in there and not anyone on Bravo. Sonny would tease him so bad for what Clay said while under the influence of narcotics. Blackburn just filed this memory away so the next time Clay does something stupid, and it would happen, he had something to smile at. “Okay, Clay, whatever you say. We’ll check in on you after they get the bullet out of you, okay?”

Clay dropped his arm back to his side and allowed his eyes to slide closed. “Kay,” he mumbled.

When he got to the door, Blackburn turned back for one more look, shaking his head in wonder at the predicaments the youngest of Bravo always managed to find himself in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the bullet comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> So, I'm updated my G-story.
> 
> I'm not quite done with Thursday's SEAL Team Week story, so you will have to make due with this one until that one is finished. Sorry!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Clay? Petty Officer Spenser?” Came from far away.

“Hmmm, yeah, what?” Clay had been asleep.

“Sorry to wake you, Clay,” Dr. Patterson said kindly, but it’s time to get that bullet out of your back. You ready?”

“Yeah, sure.” Clay said, wanting to go back to sleep.

“We need to move you onto a different gurney, so we can use the fluoroscope to see our way around. You know what that is, don’t you?” Dr. Patterson already explained this to him once, but he wasn’t sure that Clay would remember in his current state.

“Mmm hmmm. Live x-rays,” Clay answered.

“Yeah, that’s just about it. We also want to turn you on your stomach. And once we have you positioned, you can go back to sleep as far as I’m concerned, okay?” Dr. Patterson explained.

“Nope. Can never sleep on my stomach. Unless alcohol is involved.” Clay smirked, thinking he needed a drink after this.

Dr. Patterson smirked at the comment. “Okay, Clay, here we go.”

Dr. Patterson supervised as his patient was lifted and turned onto a gurney that would allow the fluoroscope’s x-rays to penetrate from the bottom. Clay groaned at the motion.

“Sorry. That’s it, though.” Dr. Patterson reassured him.

A nurse arranged Clay’s arms above his head, and the man on the gurney turned his head to look at his doctor. “Remember a little while ago, when I wanted it to hurt?” Dr. Patterson gave him a nod. “Changed my mind.”

“Well, we’re all set to give you that local, so it won’t hurt for much longer.” Dr. Patterson took the proffered syringe of Lidocaine. “This might sting a bit.”

“Ahhhh!” Clay hissed between his teeth as he felt the anesthetic enter his back. “Shiiiiiit,” he moaned.

“It’s alright, Clay. I know it hurts. Almost done.” Dr. Patterson injected Lidocaine in several more places, not speaking again until he was done. “Okay, that should do it. We’ll let that take effect while they set up the fluoroscope machine.”

***

“Clay, do you want to see?” Dr. Patterson asked.

“Hmm? See what?” Clay momentarily had no idea what Dr. Patterson was talking about.

“Turn your head. You can see the fluoroscope’s screen. We’ve got a nice picture of the bullet up there.” Dr. Patterson explained.

Clay thought for a moment. He didn’t really want to look, but at the same time, he got the impression that the doctor expected him to… Plus his own morbid curiosity. So, he did turn his head and take a brief glance. The first thing his eye found, of course, was the bright spot that was the metal bullet. Then he dared to notice how close it was to his spine. To him it looked like it was practically touching it. He’d seen enough, and he turned away.

“Thought you wanted me to stay calm, doc?” Clay asked.

Dr. Patterson let out a brief laugh. “Fair enough. You just relax.”

“Just give me a bullet to bite on,” Clay suggested with a tired grin.

“Hopefully I’ll have one for you in a minute,” the doctor replied with a smile.

But it didn’t take a minute. Not even five or ten. The doctor tried to reach it as best he could, tried larger forceps, tried everything he could. Only once did he manage to get a hold of the bullet, but it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s really stuck, Clay,” he explained.

For his part, Clay had been trying his best to keep his promise to remain calm. Up to that point, he hadn’t felt any pain. Just the incredibly odd sensation of his back being poked and prodded, and the pressure of the doctor’s attempts to remove the bullet. But he didn’t need the doctor to tell him that it wasn’t working.

“Keep trying,” Clay encouraged the doctor.

“I’ll give it another go, but there is a point where our attempts to get at it might be causing more harm than the bullet did.” Dr. Patterson explained.

“Keep trying,” Clay encouraged again.

The doctor did make one more attempt, with the same instrument with which he’d gotten close. He watched the fluoroscope machine intently, watching to forcep’s approach on the bullet. As he got close, he turned the instrument, hoping that if he grasped the bullet from a different angle, he’d be successful. He wasn’t expecting Clay to scream out in pain.

He pulled the forceps out immediately. “Okay, that’s enough. Where’s it hurt, Clay?”

“Down,” Clay panted, “Down my left leg. It shot straight down.”

“Probably aggravated the spinal nerve. Can you feel this?” Dr. Patterson ran his hand along the skin at the top of his patient’s left hip.

Clay concentrated through the pain that was still radiating down his leg. “Yeah,” he finally decided. “Touching my hip?”

“That’s right. If the nerve was damaged, you probably wouldn’t feel that. How about this?” And he touched the inside of Clay’s left thigh, near his groin.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Clay said. “Still hurts, though.”

“Sorry about that,” Dr. Patterson said. “It’ll calm down in a minute, probably. But I just can’t reach the bullet from here, Clay. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” the injured SEAL said. But he wasn’t paying all that much attention. He just wanted the pain in his leg to go away.

“We’ll use a spinal block like we discussed, but first we’ll give you something more to really relax you. You’ll probably sleep through the whole thing. Okay?” Dr. Patterson explained the treatment plan.

Clay didn’t answer, he was still panting, completely focused on the pain.

“Okay, Clay?” Dr. Patterson’s insistent voice forced Clay back to attention.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said. He really didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but he didn’t care. He wanted the pain to go away.

***

“Do you feel this, Petty Officer?” Clay could feel something on his back, but only vaguely, and only if he focused really hard, which was too much bother. Pressure, maybe. He pried his eyes open, trying to see who was speaking to him, but from his position on his stomach, he couldn’t see anything but the beeping heart monitor by his head, and the ugly yellow wall of the operating room.

“Petty Officer?” the man asked again. ‘Had to be the anesthesiologist,’ he decided.

“Feel what?” he finally mumbled.

“Just the answer I was looking for,” the voice said.

Satisfied that he had satisfied whoever this guy was, Clay allowed himself to drift off again.

***

“We’re ready to start, Clay, are you?” Dr. Patterson asked his patient.

A mumbled “mmmmmm” was the only response he got.

“I’m thinking a 3- or 4-inch incision will be necessary, Clay, but this shouldn’t take very long at-” he was suddenly cut off by the OR nurse.

“I think he’s asleep, Dr. Patterson.” Said the nurse.

The doctor smiled behind his surgical mask. “Good,” he said. “Scalpel.”

***

Awareness came slowly. His mouth was dry, and his head was pounding. His first coherent thought was that Sonny must have taken him on one helluva bender to cause a hangover this bad, but then the sounds entered his ears.

He could hear the telltale sounds of a hospital; sounds he knew as well as any other after his stint in the hospital from Manila. He could also feel something under his nose – a nasal cannula for oxygen. This was no hangover, he realized, but he was having trouble coming up with what had landed him flat on his back in a hospital bed.

His back – and with that the memory itself flooded back. He had been shot there. Clay opened his eyes to try and rush his return to full consciousness. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking furiously.

As his head cleared, it became apparent to Clay that he really was feeling what he thought he was feeling. Or, more accurately, what he wasn’t.

He couldn’t feel a thing from the middle of his back down.

Don’t panic, he futilely told himself. He tried to reconstruct what had happened in his mind. He remembered the helo ride, he remembered Doc Patterson doing the neuro check – and he remembered it having been good. He’d been able to move. He was sure of it.

After that, it was pretty much a blur, with only tiny fractions of memories. He’d talked to the team… well, most of the team, he remembered. He vaguely remembered seeing the bullet on an x-ray screen. Something must have gone horribly wrong, he decided.

And with that decision the panic overtook him. Clay noted that he could actually hear his heart rate increasing with the monitor’s beeping.

Concentrate on your legs, he told himself, and he focused all his attention there, desperate to feel something, to feel anything.

He thought he might feel the weight of the blanket on his legs, but he couldn’t be sure. But other than that, there was nothing. He grappled for the call button that should be attached to one of the bed rails, but found nothing. It was only then that he took his eyes off the ceiling and looked around.

He was in the recovery room, he realized. He’d thought he was in a regular room.

“Hey! Hello?” He didn’t know quite how else to get someone’s attention.

He heard footsteps approach and turned toward them. Trent was by his side in a second. “Hey yourself, Clay. It’s about time you woke up,” Trent said with a smile.

“Dr. Patterson. I need to talk to Dr. Patterson,” he whispered urgently.

“Are you thirsty?” Trent asked as if Clay hadn’t said anything at all.

He was, but he didn’t have time for that. Clay shook his head furiously. “No. Just get Dr. Patterson. Please.”

“He should be up to check on you very soon,” he said.

“Now. Please. Call him.” He didn’t know how to impress the urgency of this request on Trent.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Trent asked with an indulgent smile.

“Yes!” he stressed. “Call Dr. Patterson. Now!”

Trent looked at the heart monitor, seemingly noticing for the first time how fast Clay’s heart was beating. “Okay, Clay, I’ll get him here right now. You just relax,” he said.

***

“Petty Officer Spenser, you okay?” Dr. Patterson asked as he came into the room.

Clay opened his eyes at the sound of his doctor’s voice and found him leaning over his bed.

“No, doc,” he said with urgency. “What happened?”

Dr. Patterson stood up straight and crossed his arms. “What happened? We removed the bullet, that’s what happened. What’s the matter?”

Clay took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “But,” he started, gulping before continuing, “I can’t move, doc.”

He opened his eyes again when he heard Trent start to laugh. Laugh?

“Clay,” Dr. Patterson said, trying to stifle a chuckle. “Everything went just fine. We gave you a spinal block rather than use a general. Don’t you remember?”

A spinal block? No, he didn’t remember that part at all, so he shook his head.

“Well, it’s been a long and stressful day for you. It’s no surprise you’ve lost some of the details,” Dr. Patterson said kindly. “The block just hasn’t worn off, that’s all.”

“So,” Clay started. “So, you got it and everything’s alright?” He was even too worked up to be embarrassed that Trent was still laughing.

“Well, we had to make a pretty sizable incision – about 4 inches – and we hat to cut the muscle as well. There’s quite of a bit of swelling, and we were working fairly near the L1 spinal nerve. So, you should expect a fair amount of pain and maybe a little numbness in your left hip and leg for a bit. But it won’t be permanent. You’ll make a full recovery.”

Clay let out a relieved sigh. “Seriously?” He asked.

Dr. Patterson smiled. “Seriously. How are you feeling? Any headache or nausea?”

“Head’s thumping, but otherwise, I’m okay. Now.” Clay replied with a smirk of his own.

“That’s from the spinal, no doubt. It should go away. Get some rest and I’ll check on you again once you are in a room.” Dr. Patterson told his patient.

There weren’t words enough to express how relieved Clay was. He slipped his right arm, the one unencumbered by an IV, under his head. “Okay, I will. Thanks doc.”

“You’re welcome, Clay.” Dr. Patterson said as he walked out of the recovery room.

***

The nurse looked up when she heard the door open. Rather than a doctor or nurse, it was another SEAL. It was a teammate of Clay Spenser’s, she recognized, but she approached him in a businesslike manner anyway.

“Can I help you?” She asked curtly. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Sonny looked startled. Usually, Bravo just came and went and no one said a word. “I know, but I’m here to see my teammate.” He gestured toward the sleeping man as he spoke. “It’s usually no problem if we can just check on our teammates for a minute.”

The nurse smiled, unable to keep up the ruse of being annoyed, and led him toward Clay’s bed. “No, that’s fine, really. He’s asleep at the moment, but we can wake him.”

Sonny seemed to startle at the suggestion; or maybe at the nurse calling Clay by his first name. “No, no that’s okay. I don’t want to wake him up. Let him sleep.” His voice lowered as they approached the bedside.

“I’ll need to be waking him soon to check his dressing anyway,” the woman whispered.

By now, Sonny was standing by the bed, holding onto the rail and looking down at his friend. “No, leave him alone.”

The nurse nodded and took Clay’s blood pressure.

“How is it?” Sonny asked.

“Better,” she said. “Normal.”

Sonny just nodded and continued to look down on his sleeping brother. “Too close for comfort,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me?” the nurse asked.

“Oh, something Clay said before he even knew he was hurt. Said the shots were too close for comfort.” Sonny let out an exasperated sigh. “He didn’t even know how close,” he concluded.

The woman smiled at him. “He’s gonna be just fine,” she assured him.

“Oh, I know. I know,” the man said. “It’s just…” His voice trailed off; the thought unfinished. After a moment, he shook off his momentary reverie. “I have to get back to work,” he finally said. “Will you tell him that we’ll stop by and see him later?”

“I will.” She watched as the camo-clad man hurried from the room.


End file.
